


No Stop, No Rewind (Press Play)

by Bandearg_Rois



Series: In Which Stiles is an Alpha [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alpha!Stiles, BAMF!Stiles, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Romance, Super!Alpha!Stiles, Torture, abuse of mythology, gratuitous explicit language, he's a super alpha, it's a thing, no really, really really bad decision making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandearg_Rois/pseuds/Bandearg_Rois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was pretty good at staying fray adjacent, especially after the whole 'Jackson and Lydia Lovefest of 2012' that ended up with a whole new slew of dents all over Betty's front end. </p>
<p>So why was he tied up in an abandoned hunting cabin on the other side of the Preserve from the Hale house at ass o'clock in the morning? Because he was an idiot, apparently.</p>
<p>And just like always, he'd have to rescue himself. Yay.</p>
<p>July 6, 2013: This is the same story! Kind of. Made some edits to the last two chapters and decided to turn it into a series!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have set Castella, CA as the place where Beacon Hills is, and Trinity Center is an actual place, in the middle of Trinity National Park, which is the stand in for Beacon Hills Preserve. That way you have an idea of distance. Castella is on the far East edge of the Forest, and Fortuna is to the Southwest. Derek's territory expands to just past Trinity Center to the West, and CA-89 (on the other side of Shasta National Forest) to the East. North and South are roughly the outskirts of Yreka and Redding, respectively. Simply because I say so, not because I think his territory is really that large on the show. There's just so much SPACE in Northern Cali. It's ridiculous.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: I changed a lot of Chapter Three, because the muse told me to.

He woke up shivering; they'd taken his jacket and his shirt, or else there just wasn't enough left of either to protect him from the winter air that whistled through the broken windows. He tried to wrap his arms around himself and discovered that they'd tied him up with wires, reminding him of how the Argents had trussed up Boyd and Erica. He wondered what that meant, that whoever had him either thought he was a Were or were just that sadistic, but he soon abandoned that line of thought to figure out where he was.

Broken windows, the smell of rotting wood... He could hear night birds and other nocturnal animals, meaning that he wasn't far from the forest, and the light filtering in from outside threw the shadows of trees across the wall, meaning that he was close, indeed. He listened again for who had him, wondering how many there were, and where they were. He'd been gagged, so either they didn't want to hear him scream, or they knew his reputation of never shutting up, which was honestly a 50/50 speculation at this point. There was a generator whirring somewhere further in the building, which meant he was far enough not to be on the town's grid. 

Even Derek's burned out husk of a house was close enough to be on the grid, so this place must have been closer to Trinity Center than Beacon Hills, and he wracked his memory of buildings in the Preserve. There were a few old hunting cabins on the west side of the forest, but without more than that, he couldn't be sure exactly where he was, which kind of irked him, especially since wherever he was was outside of Hale territory. He'd been walking to the corner store when they'd taken him, which was probably the stupidest thing ever; he'd known better than to walk more than a block from his house at night, but he'd been bored. ADHD strikes again. He hadn't even been able to make a noise before he was out, and what the hell had they used? His head felt like cotton, but he hadn't been hit. He was interrupted from further musings by footsteps and an almost musical voice.

"Ah, awake now, Little Red?" The man wasn't as tall as Stiles would have guessed, probably only on the high side of 5'9", but he was more imposing than his stature would suggest (once he was out of this mess he'd have to thank his English teacher for the fact that his internal monologues were so detailed and used such awesome words), seeing as he wasn't tied up and Stiles was. "No need to talk, everyone knows your biggest weapon is your mouth. My name is Mathias, I believe two of your wolves met me a few months ago. I bet you're wondering why you're here, and we'll get to that, but first..."

Stiles wished he could properly scream, when Mathias's claws sliced into the skin over his ribs, tracing intricate patterns. It was like fire, worse than anything he'd ever felt, and he just wanted it to end. When it finally did, he fell in his bonds, panting through his nose, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"That hurt, didn't it, Little Red? I'm actually sorry that I have to hurt you, but you know, it's all your Alpha's fault." Stiles didn't want to listen, but apparently Mathias was fond of monologuing, too, and out loud to a captive audience, at that. "You see, you're a human. You hold no blood ties to the Pack, nor are you an SO. You're an anomaly, you break Pack Law, just by existing as you do, holding the place that you do. Hale should have either Turned you or turned you out." Another long line of pain, and Stiles wished the guy would just get on with whatever it was he was going to do.

"The boy's getting bored, brother," another voice said, and Stiles looked up to see what looked like Mathias on steroids, at least half a foot taller and much broader. Mathias tilted his head, then backhanded Stiles hard. He felt something in his face break, and whimpered weakly. Mathias smiled, almost giddily, and Stiles was violently reminded of the creepy guy from the last Twilight movie that Lydia had forced him to see.

"There. He's paying attention again. Would you like to leave a message, Morgan? I'm sure Hale will love hearing from you, too. Besides, it's about all he's going to be good for, once I'm finished." He turned back to Stiles. "How long do you think it'll take your wolves to find you, my dear? Before or after you die?" There was one more line of pain before Mathias turned and walked out of the room. Morgan didn't draw on him with his claws, he just punched him, hard, in his left shoulder, making Stiles cry out through the tape, feeling something give, and pain radiated up his arm and down his back.

"Think hard about how long you want to live, Little Red," Morgan said softly, leaning in like he was smelling Stiles's blood before turning and following his brother out of the room. As soon as he was alone (even though he knew they were listening to him, the creepers), he started to think hard to get out of the situation he was in. He had to survive this; he refused to leave his dad alone. He looked around again, though he could only actually see out of one eye, and saw his hoodie and the contents of his pockets on a table across the room. His phone was sitting innocently on top, and even as he watched, the screen lit up.

Someone was calling him, which meant either the Pack knew he'd been taken or his dad had come home in the middle of his shift and seen him gone. He hoped that it was the former, more because he didn't want his dad to worry about him. Unfortunately, no matter who it was, he couldn't actually answer the phone, so it was kind of useless. The only good that could come from them leaving his phone on was that Danny could track the GPS and narrow the search down considerably. 

He let his eye slide past the phone, since that would sort itself out no matter what, and let his mind wander. Maybe he could get them to let him go, but if they didn't let him talk, that wasn't likely to happen, so he discarded that plan. He wished he'd made plans with someone so that he'd be missed sooner, but everyone either had a date or brooding to do, so that hadn't happened, which kind of sucked, because he'd thought the whole point of having a lot of friends was to have someone to hang out with whenever. Apparently not. He wondered how long he'd been in the house, since it was really late; the moon was going down, not coming up, and that put it at around 3 or 4, so at least he knew what time it was, and how long it had been since he'd been taken.

He heard a distant howl from outside the window and tried not to smile. He hoped that the Alphas hadn't been counting on having more time, or that they didn't think the Pack was close enough to find the place; the howl was farther away, but it also belonged to Isaac, who usually took rear guard anyway. That meant Derek and Scott were probably a lot closer, which was good, but bad. Good, because they were close to getting him. Bad, because the M's were obviously not against just killing him.

"Morgan, why do you think the Hale didn't Turn him?" Mathias asked, stepping back into the room. "Do you think they had evidence that he'd die from the Bite?"

"Maybe. I heard he used Mountain Ash, though, maybe they needed a Wise One."

"You see, that would make sense, Brother, but they would have still tied him to the Pack more formally. There's a ceremony for that, you know?" The tone that Mathias used made Stiles snort despite himself. Years of hearing 'there's an App for that' were hard to fight against. "Oh, he's still awake! I wonder if he heard that howl, too... I'm betting he did. They've passed us, Little Red, did you know? The howl's coming from the other side, toward Fortuna, not toward Beacon Hills. They've missed this place completely! Isn't it nice?" A line of pain snaked down Stiles's back as Mathias walked behind him, tracing a finger to the left of his spine, and pushing down on his shoulders, making the injured one grate painfully. "Would you like to know why they missed it? It's not on any maps anywhere, at least not anymore. It's marked destroyed on the records, and that means they won't think to look here."

"I think it's nice of them to look for him," Morgan chimed in, and Stiles glared at him, even though it hurt and it didn't do much good. "They're loyal, I'll give them that." The big man turned a dial on the machine next to Stiles and Stiles screamed as best he could, the live current traveling through the wires around his arms and feet an excruciating stab of pain. "Almost wish I could take the gag off you, you must sound so pretty." The dial was turned up, and Stiles blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke up again, he wasn't hanging up anymore; they'd moved him to a table, his arms tied above his head and his ankles strapped to the table. It was only marginally more comfortable than hanging by his wrists, and he took a deep breath, wishing that his torso wasn't covered in marks that burned like fire. Mathias and Morgan had apparently written more 'messages' while he'd been out of it, since the skin from his shoulders to the waistline of his jeans felt like it'd been ripped apart. 

He was frankly amazed that his jeans were still in place, but maybe that was something that werewolves just didn't think of as a torture tactic. He ignored the part of his brain that said something about not being attractive; that would be a blessing, especially considering where he was and what was happening. He gingerly rolled his shoulders, biting back a whine when his injured shoulder protested, and realized the gag was gone. Maybe they thought he was broken down enough that they didn't need it. He needed to get his head on right to prove them wrong, even if all it got him was dead. Dead would be better than this, honestly.

The door to the room creaked open behind him, but he couldn't see who was there, since he didn't exactly have the leverage to look 'above' him. He tried to control his breathing as the heavy footsteps clomped across the room. It was Morgan, it had to be. He was proven right when the larger Alpha stepped into his field of vision, an almost angelic smile on his face.

"How do you feel, Little Red?" he asked pleasantly, as if Stiles wasn't the victim of sadistic torture at his own hands. It was kind of disconcerting, but Stiles figured that the two of them were just crazy, and possibly the rest of the Alphas, though he hadn't met any of the others to make a comparision.

"Little crispy around the edges, honestly," he finally replied, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, his voice a rasp that he barely recognized.

"Oh, did we go too far? I'm sorry." As if to give lie to his words, Morgan's claw dragged along the softer skin on the underside of his upper arm, making him arch a little at the pain. "I honestly didn't mean for you to fall unconscious. I don't like my toys pliant, you understand. Much more fun when they fight."

"You're crazy," he panted, unable to come with anything resembling his normal babbling wit, and bit back a scream when Morgan slid his claw almost gently into his armpit, barely missing the artery there.

"Oh, you see, that's not the right thing to say, not when I've finally changed my mind and managed to get Mathias to agree that you don't need to die, at least not on purpose." He leaned over Stiles, licking his claw rather obviously, smiling again. "We're going to give you a gift, Little Red. You're going to be stronger, faster, than even the Hale. Isn't that something you want? A chance to protect them?"

"I don't want the Bite," he hissed, twisting a little even though he knew there would be no getting away.

"Oh, is that the reason he didn't Turn you? Sheer sentimentality? You must normally invoke such emotion in your friends, Little Red. Luckily, I'm not swayed by your words. Your heartbeat tells me everything I need to know. Your eyes, too." Morgan's claws traced over his cheek, almost not even there except for the feeling of acid pouring over his skin. "You want it, Little Red. You might even come out of the Change an Alpha. You've got the drive, the arrogance, and the sheer stubbornness. What do you think about that?"

"I think you're full of shit," he gasped out, trying to think through the pain. He couldn't let this Alpha think he'd won. His Pack would be there soon enough, would save him from this hell. At that thought, his discussion with Ms. Morrell, the quote she'd used, came back to him.  _If you're going through Hell, keep going._ He had to keep Morgan talking, fixated on him, buy himself time.

"Tut, tut, Little Red. Such a mouth you have on you!" Morgan scolded, neatly slicing off one of his nipples, making Stiles cry out involuntarily. "I think you need to be punished." Stiles screamed when Morgan cut into his lower lip, leaving a gaping gash. "There, that should help with your little speaking problem. Mathias should be back soon; then we can begin!" With that, Morgan trailed a claw over the bottom of his foot, making him scream again, before fairly dancing out of the room, leaving Stiles beaten and bloody on the table.

As the silence descended around him, he let his mind touch back on what Morgan had said, about Alphas that were Turned that way, instead of gaining the right through death. He wondered exactly how much truth there was in that line of thought, and why Morgan was so insistent that he'd be one himself. He didn't feel arrogant, or driven to do anything except survive. He let himself drift for awhile, thoughts swirling through his mind. He didn't realize until both M's stepped back into the room that he hadn't heard even one howl since he'd woken, and cut his eyes toward the table, where his phone still lay, though his hoodie and shirt were gone, as were his shoes and socks.

"The trails are set; we should have a few hours before they get back on the right one," Mathias said softly, grinning as he and his brother stepped up to either side of the table. Stiles closed his eyes, a childish impulse making him wish that the whole 'if you can't see them, they can't see you' thing was actually true. Unfortunately, that meant the sudden pain of claws tearing through his jeans and the skin underneath was more of a shock than it should have been, making him whimper helplessly. He'd run out of screaming already, apparently.

"Good. Oh, I was right, by the by, he sounds divine when he's in pain, Brother," Morgan answered, as they finished ripping his jeans off of his legs, barely leaving enough of his boxers for modesty's sake. "A few hours should be long enough for the Change to take, right?"

"Should be. Shall we get started?" Mathias looked almost giddy, though Morgan didn't look too different, and the two Alphas sank to their knees to either side of the table, wolfing out and smiling at each other before smiling up at Stiles. "You'll thank us later, Little Red," Mathias continued, his voice husky and slightly lispy, which would have made him laugh at any other time. As it was he barely had time to breathe before both of them bit him at the same time. He was vaguely aware that he screamed before the venom took him under.

~*~

The first thing he noticed was that the abandoned house really stank. Like much worse than he'd ever smelled before, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to shut it off. Of course, that didn't work, so he sat up, going to cover his mouth and nose with his hands. Which was a terrible idea, since the smell was coming from his skin, fear-sweat and old blood combining with something that might have been cum if he was anwhere but in an abandoned house with two crazy-ass Alphas who hadn't tried anything sexual yet, at least as far as he'd known. He looked down at himself and saw that only the bite marks were still there, the rest of his injuries having disappeared with the healing factor thing.

He couldn't hear either of the Alphas anymore, and he wasn't tied up, which seemed like something they shouldn't have done. Scott had proved that just because an Alpha bit you, it didn't mean that they were your Alpha. He pushed himself to his feet and shuffled over to his phone, which was still on, though there was less than 20% battery life left. He brought up the camera and consciously shifted, watching his eyes change to something in between Beta gold and Alpha red, a strange orangish color that meant absolutely nothing to him. He cocked his head when he smelled both M's coming closer, nothing indicating that they were concerned in any way. Well, time to fix that.

He darted silently out the door on the other side of the room, noting that it opened into a kitchen before rolling out the door and into a patch of mud, completely obliterating his own scent. It was easier now that he could actually smell himself, actually. He made sure there wasn't anything that said where he was going, before slipping around the house as the M's went inside. If he could get one alone, it would be easier to take both of them out. 

"Where is he?" Mathias demanded, and Morgan rumbled out a growl, stalking into the kitchen, while Mathias stepped back toward the front door. As soon as there was more than a door between the brothers, he attacked. He hadn't been able to actually hurt a Werewolf bare-handed before, but Scott and Derek had been adamant that he learned how to move quickly and avoid detection, so he had a few tricks up his non-existent sleeves. 

He slid across the floor and into Mathias's legs, latching his claws into the Alpha's ankle before kicking upward, shoving him down on the ground. Apparently, they hadn't lied when they said he'd be faster than an Alpha, since Mathias wasn't able to do more than squeak in alarm before Stiles pinned him to the floor and dug his claws into his throat. 

Almost immediately, the power rushed over him, making him feel even faster and stronger. He spun when the door to the kitchen thumped open, ready and waiting for Morgan to make an appearance. When nothing happened, he pushed into the room he'd been held in, looking over at the other door, where the larger Alpha was sprawled, eyes wide and dead. He let himself relax a little, since the threats were gone, and picked up his phone to call Derek. Unfortunately, his phone broke almost as soon as he'd done so. Apparently he was  _really_ strong.

Sighing, he stepped out of the house and into the forest, shifting and letting out a howl, looking for his pack. The answer he got wasn't exactly friendly.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles took off into the forest, angling toward Beacon Hills, or rather where he hoped Beacon Hills was. He didn't have a territory to defend here, and honestly, going after Derek and the pups probably wasn't a wise move anyway. If he could make it to town, though, explain things to his dad... Maybe he could go to Oregon, or Washington, or even elsewhere in California. It would take him out of Derek's territory, far enough away that there wouldn't be an issue, but he'd be close enough if anything happened to his dad. 

As he ran, he was mildly amazed that he could think about where to go and what to do while dodging trees and roots and fallen logs and even animals that were too slow to get out of his way. It must have had something to do with being a were, and maybe a lot to do with killing Mathias. Thinking about Mathias made him wonder what had happened to Morgan. The Alpha hadn't killed himself, he was just dead, no marks, nothing to tell Stiles a reason. Was it because of the twin connection with Mathias? Were they that close that killing one of them killed the other? He heard the howls again, of a pack on the hunt, and they were closer than he liked. 

His wolf wanted him to change completely, to give into his instincts and either run or turn and fight. But he couldn't afford to do that, couldn't afford to lose himself in the power and go insane like Peter had. He needed to keep his head, to think about things logically, so he couldn't just wolf out and go for a nice run. He was in Derek's territory, he could feel it, and it made him itch, made the pull worse. He howled again, trying to convey that he wasn't going to take anything, didn't want what they had, but that might not have been conveyed, because the answer was even angrier. Unfortunately, he also got an answer from the other direction: the Alpha Pack was staying on the other side of Shasta and they probably were prowling through Derek's territory, waiting for the twins to come back from their little party.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, because as long as both Packs saw him as hostile, he couldn't go anywhere near his dad; even though the Sherriff knew what was going on in the supernatural world, he still didn't want him in the thick of it. So as he got closer to town, he veered away from his house, from _minehomefamilypackmine_ , to one of the abandoned warehouses on the other side of town that the pack had set up as waystation.

When he got inside, his first priority was to get cleaned off, and stop looking like a crazy person. He headed for the large box of supplies that was nearly identical to the box he had hidden in the closet of his room, digging through it to find the package of boxers and t-shirts inside, tossing aside jeans and sweatshirts that had been bought at the Goodwill in town. He almost didn't notice the jar of Mountain Ash until he'd already set it aside, which was weird, because that was the main reason he'd been the one to set up the boxes in the first place. None of the wolves liked being around it, even when it was inert, except for Scott, who worked around it all the time at Deaton's. He shuffled that thought off for later, pulling out clothes and heading up to the office to get the worst of the blood and dirt off him. The bites stung as he cleaned them out, but he gritted his teeth and did it anyway, despite the inherent lack of infection he was facing.

Once he was clean, he moved back downstairs into the large open area of the warehouse, fiddling with the strings of the sweatshirt he'd chosen as he waited to see who would be there first, the Alpha Pack or Derek and the Betas. He didn't have to wait long.

~*~

Derek and the Betas ran in the back door of the warehouse, and Stiles turned to face them, letting go of the strings as Scott started to lunge forward. He hadn't wanted to fight his friends, but he'd be damned if he just let them attack him, so he crouched a little, fangs and claws dropping. Derek roared so loud that it shook the building, making Scott stop in his tracks, eyes still bled gold and face pulled into a snarl. After a moment, Jackson started to dart forward, a howl falling from his lips, only to be body-checked by Peter, who promptly put the beta on the ground, one hand firm on the back of his neck. Stiles relaxed, shifting back to fully human since the fight didn't seem to be happening right then, and waved a little. Isaac, ironically enough, was the first to wave back, ducking a cuff to the back of the head by Scott, while Danny dodged a similar movement as he waved, too. Stiles felt a distant pang of hurt at his former best friend's actions, but they'd been getting further and further apart ever since Scott had been bitten, and Stiles was just too done with the day to care at the moment about why Scott was pissed at him. He'd mourn the end of that friendship later.

"Stiles... What happened?" Derek finally said, and with his new senses, Stiles could tell that the other Alpha was confused, probably more confused than Stiles himself was.

"Okay, so remember how you told me not to go out alone? I... Kind of did that. And, um, the M's got me. The twin Alphas. Um, they bit me. Both at the same time." Peter's eyebrows went up at that, and even Derek looked a little shocked. "Is... Is that bad?"

"Not bad, per se," Peter said, tilting his head a little. "A beta made from Twins is extremely powerful, at least at first. But you're not a beta, are you?"

"I hate to break this up," Derek said, voice and bearing tense, "but we have company." Stiles abruptly realized that the rising tension he'd felt wasn't because of the Pack in front of him, but because he could feel the Alpha Pack behind him. He tugged off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside, not wanting to get it bloody, before turning to face them.

"Oh, so that's what happened to them," Kali said, flicking her hair back over her shoulder as she joined the other two Alphas behind Deucalion, who was looking at Stiles unerringly with his sightless eyes. Had the situation been even a little less tense, Stiles probably would have made a sarcastic remark about that, but his brain was blank for sarcasm for once. Instead, he growled, taking a step back toward Derek's Pack, hearing their growls pick up a little as the other Pack arranged themselves.

"Now, now, none of that," Deucalion tutted, shaking his finger. Stiles stopped abruptly, growl dying in his throat. "Better," the older man said, fingers wrapping around the handle of his cane. Kali smirked meanly, and Stiles fought to snarl at her.

"What did you do?" he asked, trying to clench his fists. Either Isaac or Danny whined subvocally behind him, and he itched to comfort them, while at the same time fighting the urge to turn around and take them both down.

"Oh, Child, you didn't just inheret their power," Deucalion said, voice patronizing. "you inhereted their place in my Pack." And Stile recognized the pull that he'd been fighting since he'd killed Mathias and Morgan, the urge to step forward to join the wolves at the front of the warehouse. He resisted it doggedly, taking another step backward.

"Y-you're not my Alpha, you piece of shit," he bit out, feeling the pull lessen a little, though Deucalion just smiled as it snapped back into place, forcing him forward a step.

"It's not that easy, Little One," he said, smile widening a little. "It takes a bit more than a declaration to make you no longer a member of my Pack. Silly boy, I'm stronger than you can fathom. Come here." Stiles took a step, then another, his mind racing for a solution.

"Fight this, Stiles--" Derek shouted, trying to get between Stiles and the Alpha Pack, only to be batted aside by Stiles, who wasn't fully in control of his own body at the moment.

"That's right. Come to me, my dear," Deucalion crooned, the other Alphas smiling somewhat warmly. Stiles fought it again, almost halting before losing it and taking another step. "Yes, darling." And then he had it: the Mountain Ash. He stopped abruptly as soon as his mind hit on it, shifting back to human.

"What are you doing?" Kali screeched, smile turning into an ugly expression. Stiles ignored her, turning his mind to the small jar of powder which was covered by a pair of jeans he'd tossed aside in his search for his size.

"Come. Here," Deucalion said, steel underlying his words, and Stiles smiled, letting his eyes flash.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Deucalion snarled, his calm facade ripped away. Stiles just shook his head as the jar of Mountain Ash shook itself free of the pile and sailed across the room, shattering in front of the Alpha Pack. Most of the powder settled into a neat circle around the Alphas. "What are you- How are you doing that? What are you doing?"

"Freeing myself," he said, sending the rest of the powder flying across the barrier and into Deucalion's face, who fell to his knees with a keen of pain. "I'm. Not. Part. Of. Your. Pack." With each word, the pull lessened, especially since Deucalion was busy trying to get rid of the Ash in his mouth and eyes, instead of holding his dominion. "I'm not just a werewolf," he continued. "I'm Stiles Stilinski, and I'm an Alpha. But I'm not part of your Pack, or any other. I'm my own. I'm. Free." The pull fell apart, and he could almost see the power sapping from Deucalion as he lost two Alphas worth of power. He fell to his knees, tired in a way that he'd never been before after using Mountain Ash.

"You'll regret this!" Kali shrieked, paunding a fist at the barrier. "Your pathetic father will die screaming!" Stiles stood suddenly, stalking forward. The other two Alphas were busy helping Deucalion, but Kali strained against the barrier. "I'll kill him myself! He'll die slowly, knowing it's your-" He kept moving as she talked, and reached through the barrier, cutting her off by slitting her throat. She choked on the blood falling from her open mouth, as well as the blood spewing from the large gash in her throat.

He jolted as the power slammed into him, snaking up his arm and into his body as she fell, eyes going dark and lifeless. He fought the urge to throw up as he flicked her blood from his claws, turning to the other three Alphas, all of whom looked scared shitless. 

"I'm leaving," he said in a soft voice. "And the other Pack is leaving. Once this barrier falls, you're going to leave, too. Take your dead, I don't care, but you're going to leave, and you're never going to come back. Do you know why? Because if I  _ever_ hear so much as a hint of you anywhere near me or mine, I will hunt you down and tear you apart. Are we clear?" The other two Alphas nodded, each wrapping an arm around Deucalion, the one closest to Kali gripping one of her arms.

"Go." He shifted his other hand, breaking the barrier, and watched as they disappeared, before collapsing to his knees, feeling shaky and weak. He was soon surrounded by the others, and even Peter looked a little weirded out. "Everybody needs to step back," he muttered, leaning forward as they did so, and throwing up everything he'd ever eaten. A bottle of water was set down near him, and he took it with a nod of thanks, cleaning his mouth out before downing the rest of it.

"That was..." Isaac said quietly, obviously trying to find the words. Scott and Jackson growled low in their throats, and he fought the instinctual urge to smack the both of them.

"Look," he said finally, shifting to wrap his arms around his knees, grateful to whoever dropped the hoodie on his shoulders. "Let me go home, explain this to my dad, and then I'll get out of your hair. I'll find a place that's outside your territory, so that I'm not stepping on your toes. I'll just expand there, and there won't be any-"

"Shut up." He jerked his head up, which was a bad move, but whatever, at the venom in Derek's voice. "You're not leaving, that's just stupid."

"What's stupid is me sticking around. I can't stay here, I won't submit myself to you, and you won't submit to me, there's no way fro that to turn out good. Besides, two of your Betas would love to eat me for lunch, if I gave them the option." Peter was nodding along, though Derek still looked conflicted.

"We can figure something out," Derek protested, and Peter made a face. Stiles realized then how little Derek knew about actually being an Alpha, despite the fact that he'd been one for awhile. Maybe it was the fact that he'd never wanted the power; he was willfully ignorant.

"There's nothing to figure out," Stiles said to his knees. "I'm going to tell my dad what he needs to know to let me go, and then I'm going to find new territory." The noise of protest coming from Derek hurt, and he flinched back, since he desperately wanted to find a way to make it work, too, to stay with these people who had become his family. There wasn't anything to be done, though, and he sighed again. "I can't Turn anyone around here, and I can't grow a Pack here. So, I'm going to go home, take a shower, and then I'm going to figure out what to do."

"What about the rest of the Alphas?"

"I'll make sure you guys have my new number, but I doubt they'll be doing anything. Just... Let me go." He struggled to his feet, and the others left him an opening, which he took, darting out of the warehouse and straight home. He didn't realize he was crying until his dad came home at five in the morning and asked him what was wrong. He kept crying while he told him, and didn't stop until he collapsed into an exhausted sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

After a few hours of being nearly dead to the world, Stiles went out and walked the property line, his wolf itching to establish  _something_ before he could relax at all. He could smell Derek out at the treeline across the street, watching him. His wolf didn't exactly like that, but he didn't have some insane urge to go tear his throat out, so he counted that as a win. As soon as he finished walking the property line, Derek stepped up to the curb across the sidewalk, and Stiles growled, warning him not to come any closer. Derek stopped, hands up, an expression on his face that Stiles had never seen before. It was almost sadness, which was kind of ridiculous, because he'd seen sadness on Derek's face before, whenever the other Alpha thought about his family. Maybe it was... Loss. Which might have been worse, but Stiles sighed.

"What do you want, Derek?"

"To discuss the terms of our alliance," Derek said softly, and Stiles almost laughed. 

"Alliance?"

"Your dad's still here, Stiles, and he's not leaving. We need something in place so that you can visit him without Scott and Jackson going insane." Derek paced the property line, making Stiles itchy.

"Leave the roads open, and his house, and we'll be fine," he said, and Derek nodded acquiesence.

"Stiles... I don't want you to go." The older Alpha's voice broke a little, and Stiles looked up from where he was inspecting the sidewalk, to see that Derek almost had tears in his eyes. Stiles blinked, startled at the naked emotion on Derek's face. "I... Please, don't leave me." That put a whole new spin on things.

The thing was, he and Derek had made out a few times, mostly after a fight or if Derek showed up when Stiles was particularly hopped up on Adderall and coffee, but he had no idea that it was anything beyond that, at least not for the older Alpha. Stiles had figured that it was just a convenient stress relief for both of them, but apparently he was wrong. That didn't change anything, though, not really.

"Derek... I have to go. We can't keep doing what we were doing, and I am having a really hard time not ripping into you right now. I can't do this. Just leave the roads open, and call me if the Alphas do anything stupid, or if there's anything that would put my dad in danger, okay?" He waited while Derek thought, obviously trying to come up with something else to keep him there. "Derek, please. I don't want to kill you. I don't want your Pack. Please just go."

"The Alpha Pack. How were they Pack?" Derek burst out.

"... Deucalion was the leader. Is the leader, I guess. He must be the same kind of Alpha I am. He forced them under his control, made them want it, gave himself more power. I... We can't do that, Derek. That's not a natural Pack."

"Stiles-"

"Just go." Derek finally nodded and turned to walk away. "Goodbye," Stiles said softly, when he judged that he was right at the edge of hearing range. He could have sworn he heard a whimper before the other Alpha got too far away.

~*~

Over the next few days, in between four-hour bouts of sleep (which explained so much about the creeper tendencies of the pack he'd gotten to know), he started looking into long-term plans. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life as a hobo, so he needed some kind of plan in order to have a life. He'd been looking into universities in California and possibly Oregon, but he needed to step up his plans a little. Starting with figuring out how to graduate now, rather than in a year.

He decided to look into that on Monday, starting with talking to Ms. Morrell. He then looked at the prices of tuition for a year and possible scholarships, based on whether he was still in California or not. UC Davis was near Sacramento, which meant he could come see his dad, though it would also mean putting off getting his own territory for awhile. But he figured he could do that, if he could get some land that he could claim as his, at least as a stop-gap. 

He was stunned speechless when he checked the bank account that his dad had set up for him, to find that the balance was larger than it had been by at least a million dollars, and he took a moment to mourn the Pack he could have had. It had to have been Danny, moving money from Derek's account into his. He settled down into dreams for a little while, since he had more than enough money to buy up land  _and_ go to the college he wanted to go to. He would be able to get Betty completely fixed up, with no more engine scares, which would be really good. _  
_

When his dad came home from work that afternoon, he showed him the account, and his dad just hugged him a little, remarking that now he could do whatever his little heart wanted, which was pretty typical for his dad's usual level of sarcasm. He made notes on tuition and on open plots of land outside of Derek's territory, as well as shopping around for repair prices and housing contractors. He wanted all of that out of the way before he talked to Ms. Morrell, which would be an  _awesome_ conversation, he was sure.

~*~

On Monday, he went into the school, avoiding the Pack, and talked to Ms. Morrell about his extra credit and such, which resulted in both good and bad things. His teachers agreed to pass him with a final project, but only for Junior year. In order to graduate early, he'd have to go to summer school, or get his GED, which wasn't something he wanted to do. He wanted his diploma, and he wanted to pass fair and square. But he could maybe do summer school. He made a note to talk to Derek about extending his leniency (which was pretty much a given, but niceties being observed were important), and also about finding something closer to Derek's territory than he'd originally planned. He had a feeling Derek wouldn't mind his territory bordering, though the Betas might have an issue. 

Once all of the stuff he could get done at school was over with, he retreated back to his house, though the woods called to him. He hadn't gone on a run since the night he'd been Turned, which was making him a little antsy. However, there wasn't exactly an easy solution to that, or so he thought.

~*~

A few days later, he felt someone step onto his 'territory', and he eeled out of his window to see Derek and Peter standing just on the edge of the property, the other Betas nowhere to be seen.

"What's up?" he asked, bouncing on his heels a little.

"We figured you could use a run," Peter said, and Derek nodded behind him. "This way, we can reset some of the territory lines so that you have a place to run when you're here that you don't have to worry about. Also, we can feel your anxiety, and it's a bit much." He made a face at the older man, stalking forward, only to be stopped by Derek, who gently pushed him back.

"Don't let Peter get to you. Come on, we're going east." Stiles let himself be led to the other side of the property, where instead of feeling Derek's territory, he found a corridor of woods that didn't belong to anyone, that opened out on the east end of Derek's territory. As soon as he realized that, he paced the edges, trying to mark it as his, while Derek and Peter watched from their side of the line. As soon as Stiles was finished, they carefully stepped over into his territory, which wasn't nearly as terrifying as it had been just days earlier. He felt more settled, more in control, and he howled almost softly before loping off, the other two following him.

~*~

The run did him good, and he made sure to repeat it whenever he couldn't concentrate on his assignments, and when he was freaking out about where to build a house and whether he actually wanted to go to Davis. His dad tried to talk him out of it, talk him into finishing out his high school at Beacon Hills High, living at the house and having the territory to the east to keep him from going crazy, but he couldn't stay in Beacon Hills, not when he could see the members of the Pack anywhere (definitely at the high school). He had to make something that was just him.

And he was going to.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't kill me! 
> 
> Also, if this doesn't make sense, let me know, since I don't actually have a beta.


End file.
